


Little Doe

by thescroller



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:46:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescroller/pseuds/thescroller
Summary: --- Geralt saves you. Twice. The second time around is nothing like you expect.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 136





	Little Doe

They left you. 

They fucking left you there to die. 

There was supposed to be a pact. Have each other’s back from the moment we stepped foot out of that prison, but alas, you were due for a good taste of reality. All it took was an arrow to the shoulder for any sort of promise to go rushing off into the woods like deer running from a pack of wolves. 

You had stumbled along as far as you could, praying that you’d come across a village or the lone traveling merchant who could provide some aid to you. But once more the Gods were out to get you because the last thing you remembered was seeing that trail of blood run its way down your arm before the world faded into darkness. 

\--- 

Eyes fluttered, allowing visions of gray and silver, but they never stayed open for long before you tumbled back into the realm of unconsciousness. The next glimpse of reality you got was of dark amour, causing you to sit up a little too quickly making all other surroundings spiral. 

“Woah, woah,” a gruff voice coaxed you. “Calm down. Don’t go scaring Roach.” 

“The hell?” 

Despite the sudden need to flee, you did as you were told, closing your eyes and taking several deep breaths before trying to peek out once more. Golden, cat-like eyes peered down at you as a shroud of silver envelope the features of the man before you. While the initial concern of your savior being someone of the Nilfgaardian army hauling you back to camp, you were still cornered by a very large man. 

Those same gold eyes scanned you openly now as they moved from being all up close and personal to several feet away, allowing you to have some space to breathe. Carefully, well aware of the bandaging that was wrapped tightly around your shoulder, you sat up from the patch of ground you had been propped upon. Everything was throbbing from your head, down to your toes. 

“Where - where am I?” You dared, eyes darting between the trees trying to see out into the dark wilderness. 

“Not too sure,” the strange man replied, eyes staying idly on you. “Somewhere outside of White Orchard.” 

You shook your head, trying to recall any sort of clues as to where you had been held prisoner for the last couple of weeks, but nothing was coming to mind. The only thing that stood out was a massive rock leading way to a large creek. 

“Who are you?”

He shifted in his spot and exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “I’m Geralt of Rivia.” 

An eyebrow lifted as you eyed the man once more. Upon further inspection, in the dim light of the fire, it was clear that this was no ordinary man. If you could have, you would have smacked yourself for not realizing that he was a Witcher by his eyes alone, but judging by the massive headache you were positive you hit your head a lot harder than you thought when you fell. 

Those eyes continued to bore onto you. “I’m a Witcher,” he continued. “But I’m sure you know that.” 

Slowly, you nodded towards him. “I’ve heard the stories.” 

His face remained stoic as he shifted once more. “It appears everyone has these days.” 

“I have no coin,” you continued. “I have no way of thanking you for helping me.”

He was silent on the other side now, those eyes of his flickering in the flames of the fire as he focused on something in the distance. “I wouldn’t take it if you did,” he said flatly before standing up suddenly. “We need to go. Now.” 

\--- 

Roughly three weeks you had been with the great Geralt of Rivia. What had started as an effort to save you from bleeding out on your own in the middle of the woods had turned into trying to help you get home. You had insisted time and time again that you didn’t need help, that you knew just where you were, but a quick bout of questions from the Witcher proved to you wrong. 

Every single time. 

Tonight had been close. You had stumbled into a pack of wild dogs while trying to forge some berries until you could make it to the next town, completely catching you off guard. Your scream of surprise and utter terror had sent Geralt running, a look of fury overwhelming his features in such a way that had you not known any better you probably would have taken off into the hills when all was said and done. 

Geralt’s heavy breathing wafted into the frost of the mountains. “What did I tell you about keeping close to the camp?” 

“I was.” 

His eyes narrowed at you. “You’re a couple of miles out.” 

“You found me.” 

“Little Doe,” he scolded, using the little pet name he had given you shortly after the two of you had gotten comfortable with one another. He liked to use it when he was frustrated, as you noted when he was frustrated with you. “I’m an exception,” he took a couple of paces closer to you. “But if I can find you, someone else can as well.” 

His scent of something close to clove and cinnamon overwhelmed you as it always did. “But they didn’t,” you argued, shifting the cloth full of blackberries in your hands. “I knew you’d find me. Like always.” 

“Hm,” he mused. “Like always.” 

He led the two of you back to where Roach was waiting, grassing the grass as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The anger was still rolling off of Geralt, although you couldn’t figure out why and you were honestly a little too scared to ask, causing you to prematurely munch on your hard-earned work. 

Feeling like a child who needed a heavy scolding, you sat yourself down on the fallen log while Geralt grabbed ahold of Roach and bringing him over towards you, patting the saddle for you to get up. “We’re going,” he stated. “There’s an Inn a little ways south, I figured a good bed and a bath could do us both some good.” 

The ride took maybe an hour before the warmth of the Inn welcomed the two of you with open arms. Some of the patrons eyed the silver-haired Wolf as you passed by, making your way to your room. Geralt had stated when you arrived that he didn’t have enough coin to get the two of your separate lodges, so it would have to do. 

Honestly, anything would be better than the cold hard ground of the Winterland beyond those windows. 

Anger was still present when the door clicked behind you. Geralt spun on his heel to face you for the first time since the incident with the dogs. “I could have lost you today.” 

There was something other than anger in his voice now, something that almost sounded like real emotion. “Excuse me?” You whispered as he stepped in closer to you now, the cool wood of the door seeping through the thin material of your dress. 

“I could have lost you today,” he muttered again, closing in on your now, his eyes fixating on you like you were his prey and he was the big bad wolf coming to devour what was his. “You could have died.” 

“Okay,” you kept your voice low, feeling small in his corner. “I told I was sorry.” 

He shook his head, bright locks coming loose from his ponytail. “That isn’t enough.” 

“Do I need to toss some coin to you then?” You teased, trying to lighten the mood, but his expression didn’t weaver. “Cause I’m sure I could get my hands on some if you give me a couple of minutes.” 

“No.” 

“Geralt -” his lips cut you off as they came crashing into your with such force you actually stumbled backward. The gasp of surprise was captured in his mouth as his hands found their way around your waist tugging you into his broad chest. 

There was no more need for words anymore as his lips and tongue were doing a damn good job of trying to get the right conversation going. Those very arms that were holding you, lifted you up as your legs wrapped around his waist and you felt the wool of the bedding come into contact with the bareness of your shoulders. 

You swore there was barely a breath shared between the two of you before you were both naked and bare before him. He admired you for a moment, the heat creeping into your cheeks as were all too aware of how he was looking at you. There was a pause, his eyes pausing on your face, lips parting as if he wanted to say something. 

Instead, you pulled him down, asking his lips to crush you once more. He took the unsaid note, hiking the two of you up higher on the bed before you felt him at your entrance. 

“I could have lost you,” he muttered once more as he pushed himself in. “Never again.”

\--


End file.
